Crushed (Torn #7)(10)

Gathering all the courage I could, I ground my teeth together before I growled in protest. From him being too hot, from his uncalled for threats to call my parents, and this weird sudden sexual tension that seemed to hung between us today, I just wanted to scream.

“What’s your problem, huh? If you’re having a bad night, there’s no need to spread that shit around.”

“I am having a bad night, and I did say I liked having you near.” I expected him to come at me with attitude; instead, he seemed to have mellowed out, almost complacent. “So call me selfish, but I think I need you more than Russo does.”

Shit, why did he have to speak to me that way? If I’d had more to drink, I would have thought he was telling me he wanted me for himself. I knew better, though. I should know better. Always.

“Brody—” I began protesting, but he was quick to silence me by drawing me near to his face so that I could almost taste his breath on my tongue. Close, intoxicating proximity was too much. He was too much. I was a quivering mess because I wanted him so badly, and at the same time, I was reeling it in.

“Shh, it’ll be all right.” His endless pools of dark eyes magnetized me. “You’re upset, and I want to keep a close eye on you,” he said soothingly, leaving me with dry mouth, almost panting while he continued to trap me without any effort other than speaking closely to me. “Don’t be mad at me. I just want to know you’re going to be okay, preferably with you staying here at my party.”

Damn.

f*uk.

Should I stay or should I go? That was a gamble, because it was getting too personal. Then again, as much as I hated myself for even wanting to taste a little of paradise, the temptation of having him close was too hard to resist.

“If I stay”—I licked my lips as I tried leveling a glare in his direction—“promise me you won’t pester me about my family. You’re going to leave me be to party and mingle.”

I wasn’t sure how I managed to say those words without having to breathe much, but I did. My breathing pattern was erratic, and I prayed to God that he would take a step back—something—before I fell faint at his feet. f*uking shit.

Something passed across his face. I wasn’t sure if it was amusement or if he was taking me seriously, but before I could protest, he gave me his answer.

“I promise,” he barely whispered without his eyes leaving my flushed face. “I promise I’ll at least try very hard to leave you alone.”

Hmm, was he trying to be sarcastic? Though he promised something, he didn’t truly mean it. Why was that? He was confusing me. The more I thought about it, the harder it became to understand it. It was best if I left it alone, or I would dig myself a hole so big I wouldn’t ever come out of it.

“You … promise to try,” I reiterated.

He cleared his throat, not backtracking. “That’s right,” he rasped out, eyeing me closely.

We both knew that was a lie. He was being selfish for reasons I didn’t know.

“Okay, I guess that’s good enough.” Apart from his friends, I was his go-to person, his secret go-to person. He would normally call at three in the morning or whenever he was done partying. I supposed it was his way of unloading all of his burden. I was that person—that girl—the one who adored him, but he had never seen because I was always available for him. As much as I hated to be in that position, I couldn’t say no when he needed me around. It was hard to decline his request.





Chapter Four





There was no other choice than to go through with it even though I had a lot of concerns and reservations about my decision-making skills. Then again, I supposed I had never been in the position where he had actually begged me to stay. Also, this was the first party we had been in where Lindsey and Trista weren’t here, because they had prior engagements they couldn’t get out of.

Looking around, I couldn’t spot Carter, Brody, or Cooper around the crowd. Assuming they were busy handling their own business with their other female counterparts, I squashed the budding jealousy each time I thought of Brody cozying it up with someone else. He wasn’t mine, and for me to try and forget about him, though hard, I had to at least try being available to other guys who had less attachments, one who didn’t have any connections to any of my best friends.

Geared with utmost determination not to sulk about my unrequited love, I thought of better ideas to distract myself, starting with the lively surroundings and the crowd who didn’t seem to have a care in the world. Deciding to dive in the pool amongst the happy crowd, I breezily situated myself on a huge, sprinkled donut floatie, armed with sunglasses, a bottle of Corona with a thin slice of lime, a cheesy grin, and nothing else.

The sun was setting low, and before I knew it, college kids started flowing into the party, as well. It was how it usually went when someone was throwing a house party around this part of town—eventually the word spread around, and unknown people started joining in without proper invitation. Santa Barbara was highly known across the country as one of the wildest raging party universities, and weekends usually highlighted that very issue.

Just like any normal party, hot men came flooding in, one delicious six-pack treat after the other. Summer was a serious threat to one’s hungry eyes, most especially for people who were bent on trying to get over someone they loved.